Saying NO to others so I can say YES to myself
(Usually I'm not too big on New Years Resolutions but there is something major that I want to work on in 2014 so I thought I'd share.)
School Was My Hustle: Grad School & The Job Hunt (Part 1)
On Figuring Out What's Next |
Things I say when I'm feeling sorry for myself |
My response when I was told to try for another internship SMH |
Eastern Standard Time
A few weeks ago I spent the weekend in DC and I fell in love; which I'm rather shocked about. Besides the loyalty that I feel toward my hometown of Chicago, I've never really been drawn to any other city aside from New York. For as long as I can remember I have dreamed of living in NYC. When it came time to apply for undergrad, I sent my application off to my dream school and I hoped to sweet baby Jesus that I would some how get in. I did. And about 8 months later I found myself crying as I said goodbye to my parents and sister and boarded a United flight with three huge suitcases. It only took a few weeks for me to realize that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. This clearly wasn't going to the the chocolate girl version of Le Sex and the City. Instead, I called my mamma every night crying and plotting my way home and away from the University that I now call my alma mater. Miraculously, I stuck it out and five years later I'm still here (albeit in a much better neighborhood and state of mind). Though I've been considering alternative cities as I finish up my Master's degree in the coming months, I don't think I really was serious about any of them until I carried myself (and way too much clothing for two days) to DC. Have you ever felt like you just belonged somewhere, that you were completely at ease and free? There are so many exceptional people living in DC, you can feel the energy there its very young and up and coming. But its warm as well, men open doors, people use their manners. Its just easier, a bit slower, and a bit more sane. I guess I didn't realize how lonesome I was for the type of energy or maybe even more for the type of people that I was surrounded by that weekend. All I know is that though I'm head over heels in love with NYC, there is certainly some room in my heart for DC. For now I suppose DC is my infatuation because as the bus rolled down the NJ Turnpike and I watched the sun setting on the skyline as we approached the city, I remembered why I loved NYC in the first place. I've been in love with it ever since I've heard these words.
I’m Done Answering Questions About My Hair & Other Things That Irritate Me
“Hey Black Girl" Part II: Thoughts on the "Dark Girls" Documentary
"Hey Black Girl" Part 1: Growing Up Dark
Me, Daddy and Sister :) |
Two years ago in one of my very first post for this blog, I wrote about my opinion on the trailer for the documentary "Dark Girls" that had recently hit the net.
You can read that post here Thoughts on the Dark Girls Trailer. I basically wrote what I thought about the 8 min clip having not actually seen the film in its entirety.
Two years later, the documentary had finally finally premier on the OWN network and I'm here to write my reviews and opinions about what I saw as well as including my own experience as a very dark Black women
My foundation color is NW55 at MAC if that means anything do you. I got my coloring from my Nigerian Daddy. He and I were actually the exact same color so as a tot up until probably second grade I really didn't feel one way or another about my complexion (Now my hair was another story, I struggled with that for the first 21 years of my life). But back to being dark, my parents and family always made me feel loved and supported so their was never an issue at home. When I walked into a room my daddy would smile wide and say "Hey Black Girl" it thrilled me. He did that for as long as I can remember. Darkness and Blackness was never a derogatory word in my home. My mom and little sister were more of a toffee color but it was never acknowledged as a difference which is why when I got to about second grade I got my first real taste of colorism from my fellow classmates.
One of the moments that stands out to me the most was when a girl asked me why the inside of my hands were so Black. She said it with disgusts as if I was dirty and didn't wash my hands on a regular basis. I'm not really a timid person but I've always been non-confrontational and I believe that was one of those defining moments where I didn't stick up for myself which became pattern; something I still struggle with. In elementary school I had great friends, and I remember being generally well-liked by everyone. However, the most popular girls in my class were lighter skinned, they were the cool ones that the boys liked, the one's whose parents were less strict and so forth. They could also be mean girls if given half the chance. Overall though, elementary school was relatively painless for me save a few incidents over the years. I was lucky because my school was teeny tiny and we pretty much had all been together since kindergarten.
Elementary School |
I was in for a rude awakening when I got to middle school. Now my middle school situation was tragic to say the least. To be honest, I don't remember much. I'm certain I've suppressed some memories because they were traumatizing. After leaving my tiny grammar school, I spent my 7th and 8th grade years at a huge high school with a ton of different types of kids. I was fairly sheltered so this was my first experience in the "real world". Middle school was were I got my street smarts, sex education and the like. I remember being terrorized by one boy in particular who used to call me ugly because I was dark pretty much every day of seventh grade. He finally stopped at the end of the year when I politely hit him in the head with our history text book which sent him flying down the stairs.
Another boy asked me why I wore so much color. He said I was way too dark to be wearing bright colors and that I should stick to neutrals. Once again these were just a few of the defining moments that I can recall, but there were always side comments or little slights from lighter skinned people who I considered to be my friends and confidants. It was as if jabbing at me would somehow improve their self worth. Stupidly, as we all are at thirteen, I refused to discuss these happenings with my mother and instead I internalized everything that was happening around me.
Needless to say I was thrilled to leave behind that environment when I got into a multiracial high school across the city. It was here where I would learn to interact with people of all races and backgrounds. Unfortunately however, by 9th grade my self-esteem was pretty shot.
High school was a much more pleasant experience than middle school. I quickly found friends and activities to be involved in. However, two instances of ignorance still stick out to me. In 9th grade I tried out for the cheer-leading squad and made it. At first, I was really excited about it. I was enthusiastic and looked forward to the practices and the games. However, my coach was a nightmare. She was an overweight woman about my complexion who used to give us all hell. However, when she came for me me it was often to tease me about my name or make some snide comment that led me to believe that she was color-struck. Overall the woman was ignorant and I quit the squad by the second semester.
When I was 16 I got my first boyfriend and all of the drama that came along with that. I remember chatting with a couple of girlfriends at lunch about him. A guy from my class came up to the table and exclaimed "You have a boyfriend?!!! But you're so Black!!" (He was dead ass) My friends were horrified and I brushed the comment off in the moment. But I was really hurt by it. I later told my boyfriend at the time, and he said "Well, I love dark girls" LOL and that was that. In high school myself esteem continued to be on the mend. Still, there were times when I downed my self based on my complexion (ie: He cheated on me because I'm dark...so on and so forth). Luckily with age comes wisdom, growth and understanding.
Prom :) (I skipped middle school because, Lord I looked a fool) |
Fortunately throughout my college years and into adulthood, I've had very little combative statements that have been said about my color, but their have been a couple. Once a Black guy in undergrad told me I was the prettiest dark skin girl he'd ever seen ;/. I'm not so timid now so I'm sure I politely read him for filth. Once in class a white guy pointed me out and used my darkness and an example in his statement. My prof (a young Black man) ridiculed him as did my fellow classmates so I just got to sit pretty. Attending a predominantly white university really erases the color spectrum on some levels and you're labeled "Black" regardless of complexion
College Graduation |
I've never had a problem with attracting men (well maybe the right kind of men LOL) but most of the guys I've dated seem to have a preference for darker skinned women. I've also recently been getting approached by ALOT more white men. When I went to Jamaica last summer, it was like the men were obsessed with dark skin women it was kind of ridiculous.
I think overall, I've been pretty blessed in dealing with my status as a "dark girl", I've definitely embraced it over the years. Once I stopped buying into degrading nonsense about my skin I've found that my life has gone much more smoothly. This is not to say that I don't at times have moments of foolish insecurity.
I suppose the thing that continues to dig at me has to do with some Black men's take on Dark skinned Black women. For one thing, I think that Dark skin Black men are some of the most desired people on this earth which is why it's so peculiar that dark skinned black women are degraded and looked down upon. Let me just say, I could never fault a brotha for his preference. You're attracted to whom you are attracted to (heck,I think both Kevin McCall and John Slatterly are sexy as hell) For me I just enjoy men. What I find disturbing is when Black men start claiming they want a red bone this or a light skin that (Like boy, what does that even men??!?!?!) . Or even more hilarious when you see them in the neighborhood with a non-Black woman and their avoiding eye contact with any Black women they may come across. Negro please!!!
Preference is preference but I think its so disheartening for Black men to degrade dark and/or Black women especially because they came from one, and any daughter that they may have will be one. ASAP Rocky and Lil Wayne's opinions on women are irrelevant to me as a person with an IQ and I wouldn't be caught dead with anyone who values the colorist and sexist remarks that they put forth. Overall, I think the best that anyone of us can do for ourselves it to live a life that we're proud of, one that makes us happy and that's what I strive to do on a daily basis. Everything else is gravy because as my mama use to say, "All I gotta do is stay Black and die" ;)
Me being exactly who I am with my chocolate ass foundation in my hand :D |
So I'll say to my fellow dark girls and to all women and people who are living in this hetero-normative, white centric society. Embrace yourself and do what makes you happy. Life's way too short for any nonsense and if you don't love yourself I promise you, no one else will.
xoxox Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox
PS. Stay tuned for Part II on the documentary itself
GIRLS (The Chocolate Girl Version)
In my Mother's house, there's a photograph of a day gone past...always makes me laugh.
Home |
Once again like I always do, I will ask that you excuse me for slipping into oblivion. I have a legitimate excuse this time. a lot has happened, much has changed, things have shifted. By the skin of my narrow Black ass I manage to finished my Master's classes with A's and B's (some I deserved and some I didn't). Once again I find myself back in my hometown. The the place where I grew up is forever changing and yet, always the same. Its strange being here again, surrounded by memories, and moments just out of reach in this empty house. I'm not alone, not really, my sister is ever present, my family is in and out helping us pack up and purge and reminisce. But its not the same as it once was,not really. My dad isn't in the den on the green leather couch watching Pride and Prejudice on an endless loop. Its Sunday today, so my mama would have been making pancakes, loudly laughing on the phone, gossiping with some sister or some friends. Its not quite noon yet so I would have just been waking, the smells of butter and sausages would have assaulted my senses drifting upward into my third floor lair.
Instead, I've been up for hours. It cold here and silent. Though my favorite season is rapidly approaching I've been fiddling with the thermostat this last week or so. When I yell up to my sister about this thing or that the echo of my voice beams through the house. An echo that hadn't been there before. Its empty because they're gone. They've left this world.
I remember before my mom passed nearly three years ago I had a lot of fears. Like small anxieties that would burden my heart (I randomly developed a fear of flying and I was scared to drive on the highway because I was sure that I was going to get hit by a truck.) After she passed none of those fears consumed me anymore. There wasn’t much left that could hurt me, that could affect me so drastically. My dad passed just over three months ago. Ironically, I’ve been on more planes than I can think this year and its only May. My reactions to both of my parents deaths are strange and honestly I feel like I don’t speak about them much. My mom passed and I had to be be back at school nine days later. I was going into my junior year in college. I got the call about my dad in between my two mandatory three hours Master’s film studies classes. I hopped on a plane shortly thereafter. It was a Tuesday, I was back in class Monday. I didn’t really cry with my dad, still haven’t shed too many tears. Maybe its because I feel that funerals are these contrived things, like people carry on and on and act so upset but I think to myself, where was all this emotion when the person was living.
I've been dreading coming back here, probably since my mother died. My parents were mini- hoarders and the house is large enough to hold a lot of stuff without it outwardly appearing cluttered. In these last two weeks My sister and I have waded our way through the books and the paintings and the nick knacks. Strangely, though its been difficult, we haven't felt the need to keep much because I guess we know that this wasn't them, not really.
A part of me is itching to get back to New York, to my life and my apartment away from the things left behind. And another part, albeit a smaller part never wants to leave this place, the laughter and Christmas parties and the teenage standoffs between my mama and myself. My dad praying in the background or reading his Qu'ran. It was always home even when it got really bad. It'll never be the same though. I just bag things up and wrap the fragiles with care. And as this old life fades, this childhood days, these memories, I think how lucky I've been and all the experiences that have yet to come. I try not to dwell in sadness or negativity, because that's more crippling than the empty house and the cold spaces.
The house will be on the market soon, so these are probably some of the last weeks I'll spend in it. I've only ever lived here (Until I moved for college and grad school). I think what I've learned out of losing both of them is how to let go, of bad memories and meaningless things, and people who weigh you down. Because life is too short and so precious. Why waste it grasping on to what is no longer there or even worse what was never there to begin with.
Instead I'll remember this
I stayed with some beads in my head lol. They even had the foil at the end. |
and this
Look at sister!! LMAO she's exactly the same. |
and when I hand over the keys to a new family where they can grow and share their memories, it'll be a tough day but I won't regret it. I've somehow managed to press on, to build a full life for myself and the best thing I know to do for them is continue to live it.
xoxoxox Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxox
Why I deteste Going Below 59th Street & Vacating My Position as the Token Black Girl
You would think by now, (after four years at NYU) I was used to being one of the only Black people in various social and sadly academic settings. However, I received a rude awakening about two months ago when I went out for one of my good friends birthdays and I'm pleased to inform everyone that I will be returning my token card. I am no longer here for it, I'm sorry. If you would like to invite me anywhere from now on, I'll ask you to find some poor Negro and invite them along to be my companion because this is just exhausting. Either that or you can come up to 125th street and hang with me. Let's get into the tale shall we. I was really excited to see my friend. I hadn't seen her since her epic holiday party at the beginning of December and honestly I was becoming a hermit due to the "immediate ashyness, frigid death weather" that's been blowing thru NYC. I decided to brave the cold and trek downtown to grab drinks with her for her birthday and that ladies and gentlemen was my first grave mistake. When I finally arrived at the Jane Hotel after walking across some three avenues (of course it was that pungent time of night when there are literally NO CABS available) I was already OVER IT. I had on a skirt and i didn't even have on my appropriate coat because I called myself being cute (SMH, that was my second grave error). Of course the place was slave ship packed so we all hopped in cabs to make our way over to The Park (another venue close by). Now don't get me wrong its a stunning venue, and I'm sure I would enjoy being bougie in the atmosphere on a warm spring day. However, when it comes to nightlife and club interaction. I will NEVER again be here for it. I should have realized as I was getting my arm stamped that the only people around that looked like me were the bouncers. I probably should have pulled up a stool and sat outside with them smh. Anyways once we all shuffled in (after placing the gentlemen strategically around us so that we all got thru in a timely manner :/... I can't) we all headed over to the coat check. My third grave error of the evening. This is when the "angry black woman" started brewing inside of me. Literally Uncle Ben from the rice box was taking our coats. Now, The Park is a relatively young place (I would estimate that most people are under 30), so why was somebody letting their old as dirt uncle work at this place for these bratty ass NYU grads?!! I was so pressed. What totally set me off even more was the fact that when I FINALLY got up to the front of the line the poor man's tip bucket wasn't even full.
But that isn't was took the cake, NO MA'AM. I am turning in my token card because of last grave and final error of the evening which involved me screaming at the bartender. I'm still cold at this point and I kind of wish I was snuggled up in bed watching Bridesmaids, but alas its my good friends bday so I'm attempting not to have an attitude. I saunter up to the bar to order my drank and the bartender asks to see my stamped wrist. I hold up my hand to him and he tells me he doesn't see anything. I look down, and where everyone else has a loud black stamp I have a faint ashy ass few lines. I try to explain to the bartender that I am Black and also very chocolate skinned so the ish isn't showin up on me. He proceeds to catch a tude' with me and tells me that I either need to try and get closer so he can try and look at it better or I won't be getting a drink. Now girl...., I'm usually not the one to go off on people but I gave him a smooth piece of my mind. I do recall bellowing out "I'm Black bitch, I suggest next time you get a phuckin pennant marker outside".
Needless to day I've pretty much put myself on punishment since then. There is a reason I chose to leave in Harlem and I'll pretty much be remaining here, with my peeps at least until the weather is tolerable xoxox Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox
The 1 Thing I Know About Men
Yes Ma'am !! |
I've claimed time and time again that I know nothing about men, and this is still quite true. However, in my twenty-two years of living on this earth I do know two things for certain about the opposite sex. 1. ALL Black men need some form of facial hair. I'm not sure when or how I discovered this but its true. A goatee on a smooth brown/caramel/chocolate/ vanilla face is everything!!. As much as I love Don Cheadle and House of Lies, his bare face gives me the willies. He looks like a fake plastic doll and it upsets me very much. I can recall the exact day my daddy first came home from the barber without any hair on his face. My mother, sister and I were in the kitchen and I guess I was about twelve. I can still hear my mother gasping and the plate that she was holding going clang in the sink. I just remember my utter shock as I looked at my dad's bare face for the first time in my life... it was traumatic.
Don looks like a snake its very weird :/. I feel the same about Obama, perhaps when he finishes this second term he'll grow it out. |
But this post isn't about facial hair. Nope, this post is about the second and only thing that I know about men (black, white, blue or otherwise). 2. As soon as you become involved with someone or your dating life becomes a bit more interesting, men that you haven't seen or heard from since you left them in the Underground Railroad, will miraculously being to reappear!!!.
I know this sounds far fetched but ladies (and gents) I promise you this is soooo true!!!. Case in point. I've recently put my dating heels back on after a few months hiatus and suddenly my phone is lighting up like the fireworks on NYE. Yesterday alone I got a text from some Negro I NEVER EVEN WENT OUT WITH. Who I talked to on the phone all of ONCE last summer. He's talking about "How was your NYE?!!!" .....Ninja are you serious?!! I didn't have his number saved anymore and I had to ask him who it was. Last week, I received a Merry Christmas from a random number. I stupidly assumed it was one of my classmates whose number I forgot to save in my phone. SMH how wrong I was. It ended up being this creepy ninja who I had a fab conversation with who turned out to be a prostitute (literally I have the worst luck sometimes). Then I got a random email from someone who SHOULD NOT be emailing me asking me how I'm doing.
This ALWAYS happens to me, as soon as I get comfortable or I'm interested in new people some dead and buried skeletons come flying out from under the floor boards. Girl.... I'm not here for it. I guess its some type of pheromone that women emit when they're comfortable. Ponder what I've said yourself, I'm sure that this has happened to you on more than one occasion.
Gentlemen perhaps you can provide me with some insight on why ya'll come popping back up? Is it some twinge in your peen that leads you to pick up the phone after months of no contact? I'm very confused, help a sista out.
Alas, that's all for now, I've just come from le gym and I gotta find some food. xoxoxoxo Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxoxoxox
Nappy & Happy
About four months natural |
Once again I have taken months off from updating :/ I'm quite sorry but it seems that my life can never normalize itself for a decent amount of time so I've spent the better part of the last two months just going through the motions.... Anywhoo, roughly a month ago now as I rocked back in forth under my desk (it was finals don't judge me). I realized that it was my one year anniversary of being natural. The best thing about remembering was that while life was busy spreading its butt hole all over me, my hair was the last thing on my mind
Let's do a quick review. For 21 years of my life, my hair was a raggedy whore, the bane of my existence. I explained this in my Big Chop Post. Last winter, I finally grew some lady balls and cut the ish off of my hair. For the first month or so I wore my hair out because I literally had no other choice, obviously I felt like an ugly boy and my self esteem was run into the grown in a way that it hadn't been since I was told being a "dark skin" female was an issue during my adolescence.
After about a month, I decided that I could not walk around looking hideous nor could I hide in my room until my hair grew back so I got a wig made and I pretty much wore that 5 out of 7 days a week. This lasted from about January until August when everything changed. In August I took my chocolate self to Jamaica and had both a blast and a revelation.
My beateous wig. Clearly I thought that I was everything |
First off there was no way I was about to lay in 85 degree weather on a glorious beach with a hot ass wig on my head. I contemplated getting braids but the horror of someone pulling my hair deterred me. Also, I wanted to buy vacation clothes more than I wanted to spend money on getting braids. Instead, I gathered my courage and my passport and took my ass on my first adult vaca with my lovely friend.
Let's just say that Jamaica was glorious, the sun, the food, the men, the drinks, the water, the men, the beach, the men LOL. I say this without an ounce of arrogance (well perhaps a little because I don't normally gloat) but I've never gotten so much attention from the male species in my Black ass life. I get the average amount of play normally but good lord. Men were stopping to say hello everywhere we went. Dudes would stop while I was stretched on my beach chair, one of the waiters clearly wanted me to get my grove back because he stalked me the two nights we dined at the Italian restaurant at the resort and then proceeded to tell me he would follow me back to NYC. There was also the group of Black Englishmen (Idris accents on Black men yesss GAWWDDD) who accosted me in the elevator grinning at me and telling me that my hair was "radical" and that they enjoyed it immensely. Pretty much from that moment on my wig and I have broken up, save Halloween and the occasional quick errand to Trader Joes or Duane Reade.
Jamaica in August wigless and free |
I know some people may think that it took attention from men to change me opinion about my hair, and I guess you can say that but, what's interesting to me is that I attract a different type of man. The type of man that seems to be genuinely interested in me and not just how that I can have the illusion of long hair. Don't get me wrong though I still envy a sickening weave and I'll probably have a couple more myself this lifetime.
I've ever felt so free in my life, I literally wash my hair once a week, twist it up, go to bed and untwist it the next day. For the remainder of the week I do NOTHING. I just wrap it in a scarf and go to bed. I've gotten it straighten and cut once and that was that. I can do my three miles at the gym jump in the shower and then go out. Its quite liberating albeit a bit boring to see the same hair day after day.
The longest my hair got 9 months natural |
10 months natural post cut. She took about 4 inches off straightened and curled |
With all of this being said, being natural isn't for everyone and it certainly takes some getting use to, but for me, I've never felt more like myself.
The other day :) |
Obligatory Hurricane Post (Stream of Consciousness)
I’ve decided to write an obligatory hurricane post because I’m stuck in my apartment alone. On the bright side, I have delicious snacks, Breaking Bad, a Kindle and a little friend to keep me company.
So what’s been up with me these last few weeks. Nothing too dramatic for once. My coworker told me last week that I’m the Black Bridget Jones which is sadly accurate. Let’s do a review of my weekend shall we.
Apparently this is me, only chocolate dipped. |
I’ve been feeling pathetically homesick lately. I think I get this way when the holidays begin to creep up on me. I’m nostalgic and I miss the CHi, also these NYC ninjas do nothing for me so no distraction there. On Friday I have a tragic four hour class beginning at 9am. Its literally the most foolish class I’ve ever had. I spend half of my time trying not to scream at my professor for calling me “Aramedee” BITCH THAT”S NOT MY NAME!!! I’ve clearly corrected her 75 times and yet she refuses to pronounce it properly. Alas my only entertainment is to look at the facial expressions of my Chinese classmates. My professor is one of those irrational sorts who talks in circles about Foucault and other fancy white men that I suppose I should care to know. Its rough enough for the native English speakers but for the international students it has to be torture. My poor classmate always looks horrified and confused. I've given up on the class in general so when I’m about to nod off I just look at her face for a nice pick-me-up.
Once we got let out at one, I literally raced from campus like my ass was on fire. I live for weekends and I refuse to consider school until Sunday nights. I took myself all the way downtown to get a fresh bag of Garrett’s popcorn. (Yes, they have one here in NYC.) And of course these New Yorkers don’t know shit so the store is always half empty. I got my popcorn (the mix with more caramel than cheese), grabbed a bottle of wine and hauled my ass back to Harlem I proceeded to stuff my face, catch up on SCANDAL, and then took a epic nap.
They're both gone already |
Somehow I was convinced to go out that night (well it was mostly the allure of the coconut sangria that the venue is known for). It was one of my classmates birthdays and we went dancing. (Usually I spend Friday nights in my underwear watching mindless television, the week is so exhausting that I usually can't be bothered to try and get myself together until Saturday)
Me Friday afternoons and evenings |
So this is gonna sound ignorant and I know down to the depths of my little Black heart that it does but wtf I’mma just say it. I think African men can just smell that my ass is African or somethin. Now if you know me ,you know that I avoid African men like I avoid my old ass neighbor Lonnie who keeps asking me out to dinner (the man is 65 years old and he wears Spike Lee jogging suits). Anyway as soon as I have a drink in my hand and my hips are swaying this tiny African is on my ass. I’m sorry but I just can’t....like WHY???!!!! Go AWAY!!! I twirled around with him for a tad and then told him I was there with my girls, then of course he had to be an awkward lurker for another damn hour. Also why are grown men till standing around the dance floor staring at women?? I know I’ve discussed this before. (Whatever i don’t pretend to understand the male species, except for my gays of course). I stayed for awhile got fairly nice and then hauled myself home.
Um so I know this is a shocker to everyone who knows me but I have acquired a gym membership (it’s only $10/month, smh I still have to buy shoes) and I run 3 miles 3-4 times a week. (I know I’m shocked too). I actually enjoy it ....ALOT. Tis is all to say that Saturday morning I got up and went to le gym. Now this is what I don’t understand.... um... why do dudes try to talk to you in the gym or oggle your behind whilst you're running. Yes, I realize that I have on spandex and luckily my pigmentation does not allow me to turn a tragic red color. However, I get rather sweaty and it ain’t cute. I’m sure I’m not smelling too fresh and its quite awkward when its quite possible that I have a sweat stain round my bottom. I’ve started wearing my longer t-shirts so that i can run and stretch with some semblance of modesty. Going to the gym on the reg has been quite a feat for me. Especially because, few weeks ago I fell off the treadmill while adjusting my ipod, no one helped me and I have big scar on my foot...I still got my three miles in tho.
After the gym I went to the grocery store in preparation for the demise of NYC due to Sandy. Usually I’m bougie and I trek to Trader Joe’s but I had already been to the gym and that was quite enough for the day so I settled for my neighborhood store... Mistake? Yes it was. Mind you I never sleep past 10am (this real person ish is for the birds) so I was done with the gym and at the grocery store before noon. Luckily there was still some chicken left upon my arrival but I stood in the checkout line for damn near 25 minutes. I thought that my frozen yogurt was gonna melt and I was getting quite pressed. My only solace was seeing how pissed people were getting about having to wait so long... honestly its not that serious I just didn't want my Half Baked to melt.
After I finally made it home tugging my granny cart full of groceries behind me I chillaxed until it was time to head to me bestie's for his Halloween shindig, As usually I was the only Negro in sight. Luckily there were some sprinkles of Indians and Asians for additional flare. The music was good (bestie likes only Black music) and the drinks were flowing so it turned out to be a good night, I also may have eaten like 3 cupcakes from Georgetown but I just closed my eyes and pretended that I hadn’t.
I was suppose to be a Bollywood dancer. I just really enjoyed my makeup |
One small thing was puzzling to me during the eve. I became chums with a boy and we hugged in one of our intoxicated moments. I honestly think he’d never hugged a woman who weighed more than 130 pounds because clearly it became the highlight of his life. At the end of the night he hugged me again for an awkward amount of time and told me I was an exceptional hugger (?) I’m quite perplexed. What can I say though I do have some nice cushion and I smell quite nice. Still.....
Anyways I spent yesterday recovering and checking my phone to see if school and work would be closed. Mercifully they were because I made no effort to actually do any homework. (Sad....) The city has completely shut down, its very strange because NYC for once is silent. But this heifer Sandy hasn’t even really showed up from what I can tell. Its windy but its not even really raining so perhaps it won’t be a big deal after all (Just like Irene from Summer 2011) Anyways that's been my life lately, a lot more tame than normal. I’mma turn up this new Kendrick Lamar and and cook some lunch.
xoxoxoxxo Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxoxox
PS. I guess I should at least attempt this homework PPS. Never mind shit is closed tomorrow as well :)
SHit Happens
I should be doing my homework, but I've decided to relay a smooth tale. Perhaps this is something I heard, or maybe its about somebody I know, facts and events may have been changed slightly or whatever but alas here's the story.
So this girl meets this guy and they start hanging out. They casually date, dinner, see movies you know the usual. Now the girl realizes about two months in that though the guy is nice she's just not really feeling him. I guess its something in her gut that's telling her he's just not really her cup of tea. There's nothing wrong with him, he's nice, respectful all of that but that gut feeling still rides with her. So what does she do? She ignores the feeling, because he's entertaining enough for the moment and its nothing heavy. Another month passes and one evening the boy goes to the girls apartment. They chill, watch a movie, kick it. A casual night in, this has happened at least once before, its nothing too new. The next day the girl and the boy decide that they want to go out to grab breakfast. The boy gets in the shower first and the girl goes in when he's finished. When the girl gets out of the shower she calls to the boy from the bathroom. When there's no response she comes out of the bathroom to discover the boy has vanished.....along with all her electronics (aside from her television) as well as the keys to her apartment. GONE, VANISHED, IN THE WIND. Alas, though she is a bit traumatized the girl gets her life back in order, the police are called, locks are changed and things are replaced, the world keeps turning.....
About a week or so later, the girl ventures into the computer store to replace her stolen lap top. She ends up chatting with the guy who helps her for about two hours. The conversation flows, its interesting and dope. As she leaves the computer store the new boy asks the girl if he can take her out sometime. The girl is pleased because she hadn't connected with someone like that in some time. The week goes on, the girl and the boy chat and text. One evening, a few days into speaking, the new boy tells the girl that he has to tell her something. The new boy tells the girl that along with working at the computer store he has a side occupation. The girl asks the boy what this side occupation entails. The boy tells the girl that he's a non-sexual escort. The boy takes women on dates and they pay him $300-$400 per night. The girl is quite disturbed by this news and informs the boy that she has no interest in being a customer. The boy says that he never wanted the girl to be a customer, and that his intentions were just to be honest. The boy then tells the girl that his tag line is that he's eleven inches. The girl stares at her new laptop with its eleven inch screen and promptly hangs up the phone.
Moral of the story, always listen to your gut, but even then, Shit Happens
xxoxoxo Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxoxox
PS: Did ya'll see Joe snatch back Ryan's wig tonight?! Thrilling
Reading Old Broads for Filth (Or A Day In the Life of This Chocolate Girl)
So yesterday was probably one of the hardest days I've had in a while. (It ended up fine :)). I'm usually a rather optimistic person but due to some psychotic old hags who refuse to stay in their lane and away from me and mine, it was quite trying for several hours. Here's what Occurred:
So grad school isn't really difficult for me, but the amount of work is a trashy bastard. I'm exhausted all the time and it just seems to take me a minute to get focused. Anyway, Tuesday night I stayed up really late putting together a two hour presentation that I had to deliver the next day. When I arrived to work yesterday morning I realized that I had neglected to email it to myself. I let a tear drop, pulled myself together and informed my boss that I needed to run home (I only live 20 mins away thank GOD) to retrieve my assignment.
On my way back to work/campus, my cousin texted me asking me when was the last time I had talked to my father. I informed her I had spoken to him Sunday afternoon, and then I put my phone away nothing thinking much of it. I headed back to my desk and a few minutes later my cousin calls me.
I answered the phone and she informed by that my sister was also on the line. Obviously, this sent me into a full blown panic. In the last two years I've had more horrific and devastating news delivered to me via phone than any person should have in a lifetime.
(I'll take this point to give some quick background. My mama worked with this lady for years and years. We shall call her Willamina. Now Willamina stays in somebody else's business, but she and my mom were cool for years. To be honest I really don't know why because when my mama got pregnant with me Willamina refused to speak to her because she loves to be the center of attention. As I grown up I realize she is juse generally a complete fool. Anywhoo toward the end of my Mama's life I guess my mom finally decided she didn't have time for it anymore and I really heaven't heard from the woman but maybe once since my mom passed two years ago. Now there's a second woman, we'll call her Betsey, she was my Mama's best friend in high school and college. I never had any issues with her until she told my sister the day after my Mama died that her behavior wasn't any type of way to remember my Mama....Needless to say she's been excommunicated as well. Mind you if I saw or spoke to either of these women I would never be disrespectful, but as I've stated I've barely seen or heard from either, nor do I have any desire to).
Now let's get back into the story, my cousin get quiet on the phone and she says I want ya'll to hear this from me. She says that Willamina had seen one of my Daddy's neighbors over the weekend and supposedly the neighbor told her that my Daddy had passed away over the weekend. Instead of coming straight to the source (ie: my sister or myself), Willamina decides to be an extra special flavor of tea an sends an EMAIL to Betsey (who lives across the country) asking her what she knew. Betsey then, thought it would be cute to call my auntie who lives in Florida who then calls my other aunties who then call my cousin who tries to call my father and when he doesn't answer calls my sister and myself. (Do you see how ish spirals out of control??!!)
Sister and I are both panicking and about 10 people start frantically trying to reach my father . After 20 minutes of my world stopping, my sister texts and says that she's spoken to him. My Daddy calls me shortly thereafter. The poor man was obliviously befuddled because he was in the middle of teaching when his phone went off about twenty thousand times. (His IPhone has the most annoying ring of life and I doubt he knows how to put it on silent) Obviously someone had explained the situation to him because when I pick up my phone he states laughing, "I'm not dead yet". (Sigh, Bless his heart)
Of course this is the day that I just so happen to have a doctor's appointment after work and my two hour presentation :/ I get to the doctor's office and of course I'm emotionally exhausted (it's only 5pm) so I burst into tears when my doctor asks me if I smoke cigarettes. SMH
After my appointment I slink out of the doctor's office dragging my dignity behind me and head to the gym for a quick and pungent 2.5 mile run. Obviously because I am who I am, I slip on the treadmill as I'm warming up. But whateves I still got my cardio in.
As I stumble down Lenox Ave headed home, I'm pondering a hot bath and a smooth glass of wine to drown in the foolery of my life. But alas, Life is a funny funny thing. I look up to see a grown ass man in a purple velour capri pant onesie and I scream with laughter all the way home.
Moral of the story: Please stay in your lane and mind your business. You never know how stirring up some ish for your personal entertainment will effect others. I learn everyday that life ain't know crystal stair but it surely has a sense of humor.
xoxoxo Chocolate Girl in the City xxoxoxoxox Almost Friday :)
5 Things I'm Not Here For
I'm one of those people who truly enjoys life, I tend to be fairly optimistic and I would classify myself as one of those glass half full types. But alas, like everyone else, there are things that I am just NOT here for. At the moment these are my top five:
Now those who know me or have read previous post from my blog pretty much know that I have a sickening obsession with the cuddly bear that is Rick Ross. Yes this is despite the fact that he is morbidly obese and he has some of the worst lyrics in the rap game. (Its just something about the big boys that get to me:)) I'm concerned here with just one lyric. "My chick bad lookin like a bag of money". Obviously I get the vision of the lyric metaphorically but this is my blog and this is about things that I'm not here for so I'm gonna take it literally. Now Mr. Rose, bags of money are quite lumpy and grotesque. I would hope that no one would aim to look like one. I say this but as soon as I leave the confines of my homes whether it be the one on the South Side of Chicago or the one in Harlem, my already horrific eyesight is assaulted by women with rolls, pockets of fats and lumps that I'm sure no human being is suppose to have. I truly don't get it. I'm not saying that I'm the trimmest chick out there but I sure as hell never hung over my clothing. I'm very lazy myself and I have a deep aversion to the gym but I do try and get a run in twice a week and its NYC so I walk everywhere anyway. But that's neither here nor there. Ladies, please, your cottage cheese thighs upset me deeply this isn't a game to see how much or yourself you can stuff into a too small outfit. Please stop and take the time to stop at your local Target (Hell they may even have them at the Beauty Supply), round up a girdle and a few pairs of spanks and let's not pretend we're size eights when we're a size 16. Rick Ross is tricking you he can get away with it because he literally has bags of money and even he wouldn't be caught dead with the likes of you. Work it out or at least tuck it in and away.
I have finally in the past month admitted to myself that I am allergic to vodka. I pretty much figured this out about a year ago but this did not stop me from partaking in the precious beverage. As soon as I take a sip the drink is looking for anyway to violently and horrifically exit any opening of my body (TMI I know). It was sad to finally say goodbye to my friend. Vodka based beverages were how I got introduced to my dear friend alcohol but alas we had to break up. I am not here to be jolted awake out of a dead sleep only to end up chopping off box braids in the shower at 4am. (I'm sure you can figure it out.)
I have a terrible phobia of spoiled milk. I'm really not quite sure where it stemmed from. The incident was probably so horrific that I blocked it out, just like most of seventh and eighth grade. Its actually gotten worse and worse over the years to the point where I would wake my sister up in the wee hours of the morning so that she could smell the milk for me. (I just couldn't bring myself to do it). Living in NYC has proven even more challenging because, for whatever reason milk spoils here in like 3 days. I had a half of container of skim milk in my fridge and instead of testing it after the 3 day mark I held my nose and just poured it down the drain. I'm just not here for spoiled milk. I've been buying either coconut milk or almond milk since.
Yes this is quite ironical considering the fact that my blog is called "Chocolate Girl In the City". But seriously gentlemen its gotten out of hand. I can no longer tolerate walking down the street, standing in line anywhere, or doing whatever it is I gotta do and being screamed at that I look like a Chocolate dessert, candy, etc. Can we get more original please? Its actually exhausting and I've considered buying horrific brown clothing (I don't own or wear brown clothing) in an effort to blend into myself so that I don't have to hear someone ask me if I'm afraid all that chocolate is gonna melt in the sun. (No sir I have on sunscreen thank you). A simple you have pretty skin/ a nice complexion will suffice.Also on a side note, please refrain from calling me "sista" just because I have natural hair. I'm most certainly not here for that.
Ok I can be a bit obsessive about this because my skin is very dark so the ash shows up like I just rolled about in chicken flower. After every shower, I lather on Jergens for extra dry skin and over that on my legs I slap on a layer of thick ghetto greasy petroleum jelly. I realize that its probably clogging the pores on my legs but its been tried and true for 22 years and I can't give it up. I once tried to go on vacation without Vaseline and I found myself running to the nearest Walgreen's as soon as I landed. I have been known to moisturize my legs in public and quite frankly I have zero shame. My best guy friend came to stay with me one weekend and by the end of the weekend he refused to touch my doorknobs, he said that they were covered in grease and that he had to wash his hands every time he touched a surface in my apartment. He was also disturbed that I slept with a bottle of baby lotion on my night stand. I'm sorry I cannot do dry hands they wake me up in the middle of the night and I'm not here for that.
These are just some of the things that I'm not here for, what are some of your pet peeves?
xoxoxox Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxox
I was inspired to do this post because of the dashing and lovely Kid Fury who always makes me laugh.
So When Are You Gonna Take Me Out?
"if the Dog from Lady and the Tramp had his bi*** eating Italian, a grown ass man can afford to take you out of the neighborhood."-Black Girls Are Easy
So I'm not gonna sit here and lie like, I've never been the come over and chill girl. Luckily, it was at one point in my life when I was 18 and dating this dude that wasn't worth the lint in my belly button so I was able to figure out that life wasn't for me pretty early in life. I've never been the type of girl to feel like I needed a dude or even attention from a dude. I'm not gonna front and act like I don't like it because obviously everyone wants to know that someone is attracted to them or interested in them. After that "relationship" FINALLY ended I didn't talk to a dude for well over six months. And when I did, I talked to this dude who took me out, cooked for me and who was tryna see me everyday. Now it lasted about a summer before we both got annoyed with each other, I was headed back to NYC and I guess he was tired of putting in work without... well you know. But whatever, I was going through some things and I had other things on my mind. That was two summers ago and I haven't been on a date since him. (Aside from this dry ass dude who took me out to dinner in October and who was so dull I nearly fell asleep at the table.) Dating that last dude taught me a valuable lesson, if a 21 year old college dude can wine and dine me, that a grown ass man surely can. There is no excuse in the world that I should accept. I've had dudes try to play me when they got my number asking me to come over, so on an so forth. Once I politely suggested going out, some never spoke to me again and one ignorant negro even suggested that if we were gonna go out then I'd have to pay my own way. As I've said previously, I can always take myself out and I do quite often, so why then should I sit through some dull ass conversation with a stingy ignorant mf, when I still have to pay my own way. SMH. Obviously I would love a companion, my Love Jones DVD is quite run down and there's only so many times I can sit at home with my Daddy and watch PBS renditions of Pride and Prejudice. I have enough time most evening to paint my nails a variety of different colors and catch up on several episodes of tv. But these past two years I've realized that I'm fairly comfortable just doing me. I refuse to be pressed just lending my time out to any ninja that looks my way. All I know is the next time I'm frustrated or upset with some dude, its not gonna be because I'm all dressed up sitting on his couch eating some stale Wendy's while he's playing his playstation. SMH. As for right now, I'm planning my August trip to Jamaica, apartment hunting and saving my money for my 2013 trip to Paris. As usual, @8plus9 says it better than I ever could: Dating vs. Come Over and Chill
xoxox Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxo PS. Even Alfalfa put in work
Hayden 10: What Really Went Down :)
My home for three out of my four years in undergrad |
Let me just begin by saying that for everyone who cussed me out for not posting a blog in months I'm deeply sorry. I was going through some ish so please refrain from throwing shade. So lets begin clocking the ways that is the foolery of my life: * DISCLAIMER: In this post I will read some people like a book, however, due to the fact that my diploma has not been mailed out yet I have changed the names or just omitted them" This all started the day I got into Columbia University for grad school (March 23rd) to be exact. I got my life that day and even though I was second in command for my building (Resident Assistant at a freshman dorm), I decided to go hang with my peeps. It was super lowkey, we laughed, talked we chilled, we laughed at a certain Asian boy's choice in music. I acted foolish smacked some people on the ass and then promptly along with the rest of my RA crew took my Black ass to bed. Now let me be really real, there was alcohol present but I'm of age and so were 95% of the people there. Others who were present drank water or just chilled. Once again, super lowkey no drama, just some Friday night fuckery.
Fast forward two weeks. As an RA we were subjected to a weekly meeting so we could be chastised about what all we are doing wrong and other bullshit like that. In Hayden, our most favorite part of these meetings are something we do called kudos. Typically they are inside jokes from one RA to another about some shitty ass situation that we had to deal with earlier in the week or the weekday before.
Let me give you some examples about the shit that went down: People passing out move in day from alcohol poisoning in the elevator, the elevator is continually closing on your body but you are too shitfaced to even stir Watching a girl's uterus practically fall out of her vagina (Seriously it was foul I thought she was having a miscarriage) Walking in on orgies Having to wear a plastic bag in an ambulance at 4am so that a resident doesn't projectile vomit on you. Having to go to the hospital in the middle of the night (during the week) for bullshit thing (ie: headaches, menstrual cramps, contact lenses scratches just to name a few)
Like for eal have you been to fuckin BELLVUE?!!!! (Its the psychiatric hospital and also the one where all prisoners and homeless go :/)
So anyway back to the meeting. So that particular week this is what was said that sparked this whole thing
These are the actual kudos that were written. THIS IS IT!!! SERIOUSLY |
So for whatever reason because we said these things, not having anything to do with alcohol, our nosey ass bosses just had to know what was going on and they set out on a witch hunt that ended with ten RA's (myself included) losing their jobs.
Now I'm sure you're wondering why did we even say these things if our bosses were such hard asses? Why risk it? Let's dive into the relationships we had with our bosses. Now I was an RA for two years. Last year I had bosses they were dope we had no problems we had no issues. Now this year they hire two new people. I think they're cool at first. I'm a warm fuzzy ball of trash so I acted like myself trying to make them feel warm and welcomed. Now I must say myself that I'm pretty much an open book but I do know how to be professional. I personally chose to just follow the direction of my bosses. Day 2 of training, we're sitting over dinner having a convo about anal sex! Over the course of the semesters, we learn about our RHD's dildo, he wanted to know about our business so much so that he hounded me for information whenever I saw him going as far as to lock my phone as he tries to break into it. (I also personally think he sexually suggestive with some residents and one of my really good friends, but that's for another day and another dollar). His lack of professionalism does not even begin to cover the asinine behavior of my RHAD. Our entire staff knew of her middle of the night sexual exploits to the point that we knew where she met these dudes, if they strapped up, had girlfriends, what time they came through etc. She has also peed on herself in front of us because she got so flustered when the copy machine went haywire But all that doesn't matter because we got our asses handed to us because were were being 20-23 years old letting off steam.
I won't get into what else went down because I am writing this retrospectively and I don't really give to much of a f**** anymore. But alas this whole interrogation dragged out for weeks and weeks. Tears were spilled, people were cussed out, scholarships lost, more alcohol had, people quit. (I dropped 6 lbs, which I'm rather pleased about).
So the worst part of the entire situation was the day before we all got fired. The head of Student life shall I call him Mike Vice and the other dude in charge Tim Fellet. Came and rambled on and on about how disappointed they were in us so on and so forth. Now Mr. Fellet is delusional, he pretends to be a life coach but he tells us inappropriate things about his children like, how one failed out of freshman year of school so on and so forth. I also think its strange that a grown man and his family still live in housing (like his whole family including his mama). He also thinks drinking alcohol is morally wrong therefore he's essentially living with his head up his ass working for a school like NYU. Please proceed to Brigham Young, where evangelical Christians can go to judge others. But alas like I already knew ole boy was strange so whatever..... (He also thought it was appropriate to tweet about the situation while it was happening.)
But let's get into Mike Vice. This pathetic bastard whom we had never talked to before in our lives came to scream at us about how when we decided to be RA's we made lifestyle choices (Um excuse me that was never in my contract) and how he was outraged and so forth. I'd just like to add for humors sake that the man looks like a giant penis.
Now listen very closely because here's is the rub on this mf which I've gotten from an extremely reliable source.... this same man Mr. Vice who questioned our morality as young adults has been carrying on illicit affairs for the past few years. First with a graduate student ( Um I'm pretty sure that's breaking his work contract) and currently with a woman who works in student life. He is married and he has been using NYU housing in order to get down. ***SIDE EYE**** I soo wish I had gotten this information when he was yelling at us because I would have laid his shit bare. So please Mr. Vice, please feel free to question my moral integrity for NOT writing up my grown friends :) I take comfort in knowing just what a low down dirty dog you are, and I pity your wife who must be a complete idiot.
Anyway like I said, ten of us out of twelve who were present got fired over something so small and pathetic just like the people who hunted us down. But now you know the truth. Did we make a lapse in judgment SURE BEANS. Do I regret it? HELL NO. One of the best nights of my life at NYU and though I had to leave my babies behind with three weeks left in the school year. I got more sleep that I've had in years and I moved to a lovely quite dorm where both elevators worked. For those that have judged, questioned and speculated over the past month and a half or so please feel free to pick which part of my ass you'd like to kiss because I still got two years of NYU housing free <3.
So run and tell that xoxoxoxo Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxoxox
PS. I guess its true what they say when you go to a private school you give up all of your rights.
I Can't!!!!!!!!!! Episode 4
How could you sacrifice these for a fifthly dirty little boy? |
Tragically last week I was on Saturday night 24 hour duty for my lovely dorm....*side eye*. But alas it comes with the free housing and meal plan. Anyways, it was about 1:15 in the morning and I was making my rounds. I get to one of the last floor when of course music was blasting down the hallway. Now this is usually over and done with really swiftly, but of course some of these imbeciles, being an extra special flavor of tea had to take forever to come to the door. I was immediately pissed because I was trying to watch The Preacher's Wife and eat my leftover salmon croquettes, mac and cheese greens and cornbread. So anywhoo this fool comes to the door and I barge in. He tries to be smart and have a little attitude so I had to promptly READ him before evaluating the situation. I look around this foul little room and despite the fact that the lights are out I can see that the floor is COVERED in filth. There was crumbled up Styrofoam, empty beer bottles, the freaken works. Anyway I'm disgusted and I ask the boy is anyone else here, as I start making my way to the back room, the kid starts panicking and another kid (dressed in a full suit) pops out. So I'm talking to both of them about how foul the room is and that they should not be blasting music loud enough for the entire building to hear and I figure out that neither one of these fools lives in the building when I hear something move. Of course I barge past them and turn on the lights in the back room. I SWEAR TO YOU. Like seven scantly clad girls (wearing epic shoes I must say, I peeped some Jeffery Campbell's, Louboutins and Sam Edelmen and Brian Atwood's) stumbled out of the fifthly room. Shall I clock the ways of how terribly ridiculous this situation is? You're a grown ass woman (18-19years old) but still old enough to know better. And you would dare go to some nasty negro 's room(negro being a universal term for all little boys) and subject your perfect shoes let alone your body to lying on the a disgusting floor. Let's not even get into the stench of this place. Basically I can't. Come on ladies let's just have a morsel more respect for ourselves or at the very least our shoe-wear. You need to do better. I really CAN'T. Two more months and I'm done with this ridiculousness. xoxoxo Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxox
Rip the Runway 2012 :)
After the red carpet before the show |
This past Wednesday, I was given the opportunity to be apart of something pretty epic. I'm interning in the PR department at BET and I was asked to work the Rip the Runway 2012 event. For those who don't know, Rip the Runway is an annual fashion/music collaboration. The network asks fashion designers to showcase their work with live musical performances on the stage. Because I work in PR, I was asked to help on the red carpet as an escort, which meant that I guided the talent and celebs down the carpet making sure that all of the photographers and reporters knew who they were. EPIC. I got the opportunity to meet Estelle (so lovely and nice), Robin Thicke (epic) and the creator the thefashionbomb.com Claire Summers (I die :)). I also got a chance to be very close to Pooch Hall, Selita EBanks, Diggy and Angela Simmons, b.o.b, and Wale who all seemed very nice as well. I was literally inches away from Lil' Kim but of course she had entourage up the ass. (She had a DOPE ass performance though. She did "Crush on You" and "All About the Benjamins"
I was literally right next to her on the carpet |
Kim all day everyday:) |
Side view of Pooch |
Lol of course Robin performed during the thick girls line |
Selita's shoes were everything !!! (Even though apparently I am a drag queen and am obsessed with sparkles) |
SASS by Selita (Its swim wear) |
I also had the "pleasure" of walking Emily B (from Love and Hip-Hop) down the carpet. Let's just say she was as basic and unfortunate as her ensemble #shadethrown. It will be quite a pleasure when that pathetic piece of television is canceled so she can stop feeling herself. (I was told by my bestie that apparently she has a baby daddy who won't even acknowledge her, Smh I wonder why?....let's just stop there).
SMH |
Anywhoo, being around this people was so strange it was like a twilight zone. Nearly everyone had at least a handful of entourage and it was just a very weird thing to see because obviously they're just human like the rest of us. All these people were fawning over them telling them how epic they were, obviously this is one of the reasons why fame is very difficult to deal with. Most were cool though so I can't even complain. After our red carpet duties, the other PR guys and myself were allowed to watch the show. It was all around really fantastic and I enjoyed every minute of chaos. Rip the Runway will air March 21st at 10PM EST on BET xoxoxo Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxoxox PS. This was an fantastic humpday, especially because the day before a RAT rolled over my foot as I was walking out of the train. Obviously I burst into tears, screamed and then proceeded to sweat profusely out of horror. PPS. Excuse the grainy pics, my blackberry is a shit show.